The Argosy for May — page 177: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

364 THE ARGOSY. Now, are you going to give me a hand with ‘that trunk?” “Send away those dogs, and I’ll do anything you say,” I gasped, my teeth chattering with fear. I assisted him in lifting the trunk into the house, the savage-looking dogs en- circling us and snapping at me as I did so in a manner that made my blood run cold. He led the way up a shorg flight of stairs, and with my help, deposited the trunk in a small front roonf. “This is your bedroom,” he said. “You can retire now, if you like. I guess you must be tired after your long trip.” » “T'm hunery, i -told = hime. It -is several hours since I dined. Aren’t you going to give me some supper?” ‘““We don’t serve suppers at Shady Bower Farm,” he replied coldly. “ If you're up early to-morrow morning, you'll get some breakfast. Good night.” He poked his head in at the door again a few seconds later. “I forgot to tell you that I let them dogs run around loose at night,” he re- marked. ‘They're hungry, and_ they ain't got any prejudice against human flesh. I merely mention this in case you might be thinking of taking an eve- ning stroll.” With these words he went out again. I flung myself dejectedly on the bed and began to ponder upon the situation. ‘This was certainly the queerest board- ing-house I had ever struck. I was being treated more like a prisoner than a guest. I made up my mind that I would leave the place the next day. I went to the window, and, throwing it open, gazed out at the surrounding landscape. There didn’t seem to be another human habitation for miles around— nothing but farmlands and wild moun- tain country. From beneath my window came the howls of one of the ferocious boarhounds. “T certainly shall not stay here any longer than to-morrow morning, even if I have to pay a whole week’s board in order to get away,” I said to myself, with a shudder. ‘I wonder what kind of people the other boarders are. It is queer they tolerate such tyrannical treat- ment.” It suddenly dawned upon me that perhaps there were-no other boarders. I had not seen.nor heard signs of any. My belief in the score of pretty summer girls, of whom Farmer Snookins had boasted in his letter, had vanished by this time. The proprietor of Shady Bower Farm had deceived me in other respects; so what reason was there for supposing that his alluring letter had told the truth about these beautiful maidens? I was fully convinced now that the young lady who had won the prize for beauty offered by a New York newspaper was nothing more than a myth—a figment of Farmer Snookins’s imagination. -I went to sleep at length; for I was so exhausted from my trip that even my disappointment and my fears could not keep me awake. I was aroused at about six the fol- lowing morning by the ringing of a rising-bell. I dréssed hastily, and hurried down- stairs, remembering that Farmer Snook- ins had intimated that I would get no breakfast unless 1. was early at the table. I found my way unaided to the dining- room. Farmer Snookins was not there; but a young girl was laying the cloth as I entered the room. She appeared surprised to see me; and I was joyfully surprised to see her. She was beautiful enough to be the holder of the pulchritude prize the farmer had mentioned in his letter. She was, without doubt, one of the prettiest girls I had ever beheld, although her face was pale and her eyes looked as if she had been crying. At sight of her, I began to waver in my determination to leave Shady Bower Farm immediately after breakfast. ‘Perhaps this place isn’t so bad, after all,” I mused. “TI might try to stick it out for a day or two, anyway.” ‘“Good morning,” I said aloud. ‘Good morning,” she replied very cordially. ‘““Have I the pleasure of addressing Farmer Snookins’s daughter?” I’ in- quired; for, seeing that she was . busy laying the table, I assumed that she must be a member of the household. COMMICMOOCKKS.EC©